All language subtitles for the.deceived.s01e03.1080p.web.h264-btx

- I have to go to Cambridge,
my dad's taken ill.

- Oh Jesus, what's happened?

- I'm Hugh Callaghan's son.

The doctor said he had a visitor.

- Yes.
- Who was it?

- Your wife.

- Oh, my god.

- I understand
you might wanna talk.

Bad things happen here.

She's not the first, and
she won't be the last.

- It's a girl.

- Didn't I tell you it was a girl?

- You're the one going around
impersonating my dead wife.

- That's not what that was.

- It's not safe here.

- I'm a wee bit nervous.

- Don't be.

- Well?

Come on, what do you think?

- Hmm.

- What's that?

- Open it.

I can't wait to see you in it.

- My god, it's beautiful.

I'm not sure it's right for...

- Let me give you a hand.

I love you. - I love you.

God, I love you so much.

- Oh shit, shit. They're here.

Oh shit, go, go.

- Hey.
- Hey.

Come here.

- Lovely to see you.

- Hello.
- Hi, Ruth.

- Beautiful.

- You'll break my heart with your playing.

Ruth, can I have one of your cigs?

- Yeah, course.
- Mm-hmm.

- Oh, my god.

Matthew, look.

Come here. - Congratulations.

- I knew it.

What did I tell you? I knew it.
- It's the beginning of the end, Michael.

Next thing there'll be a baby.

- I don't think so.

- Someone Roisin might
worship more than Michael?

How would he cope?

- You're right, of course. I
could never possibly share her.

- Matthew.

- It's fantastic news.

- Aye, it'll be some craic, the wedding.
- Yeah, I promise to keep it together.

- What do you mean?

- It's sort of sad for
me at the same time.

I always loved you.

But it's not like I ever thought

I could do anything about it.

It's just, you know,
there, in the background.

I've said it now.

Forget it. It's been said.

- I'll see you in the morning.

- Yeah. Night.

- I need to speak to you, Matthew.

- One minute, boys.

What is it? I'm in the
middle of choir practice.

- I've been suspended.

- What?

- The bastard's had me suspended.

- Who?

- For god's sake, Michael, who else?

- I'm sure he didn't think
it would go this far.

- When are you gonna see
that man for what he is?

A manipulative, lying-

- He's not lying, though, is he?

You did visit his father.
You pretended to be his wife.

- My best friend had just died.

I had questions. I still do.

I mean, don't you find it at all strange?

- It was an accident.

- What was she doing over there?

She didn't tell me she was leaving.

- Why should
she have to tell you?

- Because she was scared.

You remember how jealous he was of her?

He couldn't stomach her
success, he hated it.

And he punished her.

What about that girl?
- What girl?

- He was seeing a girl.

I saw them together. She's a student.

Where is he now? Is he still in Ireland?

- I'm not sure.

- Oh, my god, you're
actually covering for him.

It's disgusting, it's pathetic.

- I just don't think you
should be chasing him around.

- You're still just a besotted
young man with a crush.

- Ruth, what's got into you?

- He's not a good man,
your precious Michael.

He's a narcissist and a bully.

- I need to get back to the boys.

- Well, he won't bully me.

- Sure a fire like that

affects the whole structure of the house,

the electrics and everything.

It's madness us all moving back in here

before it's been fixed.

I'm supposed to be recovering.

Maybe just my luck,

if they give me the all clear
and then the roof falls on me.

- There was a such a noise, though, Hugh,

in the wall by the bath,

like a water pipe being tied in a knot.

- You think there's
something strange going on?

- Who knows.

This place, sometimes I
feel like I'm going mad.

- What is it, love?

You can tell me.

- I had a lady come to
the house to do a reading.

- A reading?

- She's a local woman, Cloda.

- Uh-huh.
- You know her?

- I've known her
since she was a wain.

- Well, she told me this place is haunted.

- Well, I could
have told you that, girl.

We've never been alone
here, not for generations.

There's a wee girl in the
village. What's her name?

She'll tell you. Cloda.

- Cloda?

- Aye.
- Yes, Hugh,

I was just telling you.

- Poor Roisin, how she suffered.

I told Michael he'd never escape it.

And it was his doing.

- What was his doing?

- That's why he's trying
to sell the house.

The guilt, you see.

There's a girl in Knockdara.

She does readings.

She'll tell you.

What's her name?

- Cloda.
- Aye, you know her?

- Yes, Hugh.

I'm sorry, I know it's confusing.

But please try, please try and explain.

- Explain what?

- Oh, Michael will know.

What's the name of your woman?

- Who?
- He means me, I think.

- Ah, the glass cut her, you know.

- I know, Dad.

It's all right. Everything's fine.

How are you feeling now? You okay?

- Yeah, much better, thanks.
- Sure?

- I've told you, Son, this
place is a death trap.

We shouldn't be here.
- I know, Dad, I know.

Right, I need to go and
meet this publisher.

Will you two look after each other?

- I'm gonna sit by the fire.

- Who is it you're meeting?

- Roisin's publisher, about
the rights to her estate,

her books, all that.

I told you, remember?

It's just in the cafe in the village.

- But we were saying
that was why I was here,

because of her books.

- There's no keeping
secrets here, Ophelia,

not in this place.

Everyone knows about us.
- Everyone?

- Well, Mary knows, everyone knows.

Hey, it's all right.

The people in this place
they look after their own,

and in the end that means me, not Roisin.

We don't have to lie anymore.

I won't be long.

- Michael, it's
me, can you call me back?

Ruth just came to see me,

ranting about some girl
she thinks you're seeing.

I know there's nothing in it, I know that,

it's just she's going to cause trouble.

Just call me. I need
to know the line, okay?

- You all right?

- Sean, I have to run out.

Michael left his phone.

Will you keep an eye on Hugh?

He's in the living room.
- Aye, no bother.

- Thank you.

- Hello, Ophelia.

- I'm sorry, I didn't mean to disturb you.

- My wee boy's
just having his song.

- Here, I'm sorry about the other day.

- Did she visit you again?

- Who?
- Roisin, of course.

- Oh, I see. No.
- She will.

The other poor girl too.

Just open your heart, and they'll come.

- The other girl?

- That aul house. It played a
part in his end too, you know?

- Hello?

Hello?

I'm sorry to disturb you.

Are you here to meet Michael?

- Ach, naw, I'm waiting on Seamus.

You wouldn't know where he is, now?

- I'm sorry, I thought
you were someone else.

- Jesus, now, would you mind yourself?

- I'm so sorry.

- Are you okay, love?

- Yes, let me get you another drink.

- Don't you be worrying about that.

- Please, I insist.

What was it?

- Are you all right?

Here. - What the fuck?

- Hey, take it easy.

- No, you don't understand.

I didn't put it there.

Michael.

Michael!

- Ophelia, what the hell are you doing?

- Why didn't you stop?
- But I did.

Jesus, what did you do to your hand?

- There was a knife in my bag.

- What?

Okay, come on, we'll get you sorted.

- Dr. Callaghan
is on compassionate leave.

- Do you know where I can find him?
- I'm afraid I couldn't say, sir.

- Ah, you couldn't say?

All right, thanks for your help.

- Excuse me?

Hi, sorry.

You're looking for Michael Callaghan?

- Yeah, do you know him?
- Yes.

What's this about?

- Her name's Annabelle
Lorimer. She's missing.

- Is she a student?

- She was. She left last year.

- But I saw her here a few weeks ago.

She was talking to him, to Michael.

- She had his address in her diary.

- His home address? Why?

- That's what
I'm trying to find out.

- Did he teach her?

- Nobody will tell me.

And I don't know where he
is or how to contact him.

- Michael, what's going on?

- What's that?
- Your phone.

You left it at the house,
that's why I came after you.

- What about it?

- I was at the church and it rang.

- Yeah?

- It said it was Roisin.

- What is this, Ophelia?

- I just want you to be honest with me.

- You're seeing visions of her,
you think she's calling my phone.

This has to stop.

What are you trying to do to me?

- I feel like I'm losing my mind.

- Here, call it.

- I don't want to.
- Do it.

- Michael? I've
been trying to call you.

Hello?

- Mary has her old phone.
- Right.

- Ophelia, what is going on?

What is it that you
think is happening here?

- Perhaps I'd be less paranoid
if you told me the truth.

- What are you talking about?
- You said you had a meeting at the cafe,

but where were you?

Why would you lie to me?
- Jesus!

Fine, yeah. Okay, listen.

I went into the village and
met Paul about the house sale.

I didn't wanna say in front of my dad

because it upsets him, that's all.

- And there was a message on
it from Matthew about Ruth.

She definitely knows about us.
- So what if she does? We're together now.

- And you said everything would be fine,

but everyone was staring at
me in the cafe, in the pub.

- I know.

I know and I'm sorry.

You shouldn't have
been dragged into all this.

When I see how you've handled
everything, you're so strong.

- I don't feel it.

- You're stronger than I could ever be.

I just need to tie up
everything here, and when I do,

then you and I can go back to
Cambridge, properly, together.

- I'd love that.
- Yeah?

- I'd love that more
than anything in the world.

- Go upstairs. I'll come up in a minute.

- Okay.
- Okay.

- Ah, you're back.

Michael with you?

- No, I mean, yes, he's downstairs.

Mary, what are you doing?

- I'm just trying to
sort out Roisin's things.

This was mine, you know?

Course, they had to add some lace.

She was a good bit taller than me.

Come and sit down just for a minute.

How are you feeling?

Hugh told me about your
scare in the bathroom.

- I'm fine.
- It can't be easy, all this.

I do understand, you know?

- You do?
- Well, it's not your fault.

I'm not naive.

I know how it can happen.

But things are still
very raw for everyone.

Why don't you just go home, love?

Maybe it'll work out in time, but not now.

You need to let him grieve.

- Here you are.

- Aye, you need to drink plenty of that.

Good for the wee baby.

- Are you done here?
- Aye, for now.

Will you lift me to the shop?
- Aye, no problem.

- I promised Hugh I'd make
you all dinner tonight.

I just need to grab a few bits.

- You'll be all right, won't you?

- Yeah, of course.

- Yeah.

- Ugh.

- People don't like
the idea of living here

after what happened, Dad, but
I spoke to Paul this morning,

and apparently he's been approached

by some property developers

who are very interested in the land.

- What do you mean, the land?

- It's a company that owns
a group of country hotels.

Basically, look, it would just mean
that we'll save on finishing renovations.

We could buy somewhere new, more compact,

up the coast, perhaps.

- Over my dead body.

- Ah, there you are, love.

Sit down, I'll get you your food.

- Hey, how are you feeling?

- Better, thanks.
- Okay.

- You've no respect.

- I'm sorry?
- Not you, it's all right.

- My grandfather built this house.

- It was just an idea, Dad.
- Thank you.

- I made yours specially.

- You know, Michael,

there are lots of things I don't remember.

But most of what I do remember
happened in this house.

This is our home, for God's sake.

- I know, Dad, I know.

You don't have to keep going on.

Next you'll be telling us about Bridget.

- Who's Bridget?

- What, he
hasn't told you this story?

- Don't think so.

- You winding me up now, son?
- Absolutely not.

Please, go on.

Mary, can you pass me the wine?

It's a good one.

- It was 1949, the year
the Republic was declared.

I was seven years old.

My old da got a job in
Liverpool to build a new school.

Well, he was to be gone for
around six months, on and off,

so he needed someone to
look after the garden

and keep an eye on things.

There was this fella named McGinley.

He lived in that house just
before the village there,

you know the one I mean?

- Yes, Dad.
- McGinley, he comes here

every day first thing, and
then on around the third day,

his daughter comes with him.

She comes straight into my
room and introduces herself.

This was Bridget.

She was a wee bit older than me,

not much, maybe a year or so.

And she'd look at me like I
was the silliest little boy,

but by God I was mad about her.

All day, we'd play
hide-and-seek around the house

and by the trees outside.

For weeks we were inseparable.

My da's job in Liverpool
finished, he came home.

McGinley stopped coming
and so did Bridget.

Weeks passed, then one day
I was playing in the woods

and out of nowhere, there she was.

She told me that her ma and da

wouldn't let her play with me anymore,

but we could meet in secret.

So we had an arrangement.

I gave her the key to the wee summer house

at the bottom of the garden.

She would wait until her
ma and da had gone to bed

and then she'd sneak out.

She'd go to the summer house

and she'd flick the switch on and off,

and I would watch from my bedroom window.

Whenever I saw it, I'd go down to her.

And then, one night in
February, she didn't come.

I was heartbroken.

Well, the next morning,
I looked out of my window

and there she was in the
drive beside the trees.

So I pulled on my shoes
and rushed outside,

still in my pajamas, I was
that desperate to see her.

But as soon as I got out the front door,

she ran off up the drive
and out into the road.

Well, I chased after her
almost to the village.

But when she got to the church,

she turned into the graveyard,

and I watched her rush across
to one of the gravestones

and hide behind it.

But when I got there, she was gone.

Hmm, gone.

The gravestone was small,
like it was for a child.

And it was old and grown over.

And I looked at the writing.

"Here lies Bridget McGinley.

Born May 1938.

Died March 1945."

Four years before I'd met her.

- Oh, god.

- Sitting on the
grass beneath the gravestone

was the little key that I'd
given her to the summer house.

- Christ, Hugh, why would
you tell a tale like that?

- I went to my mother and
I asked about Bridget,

and she told me

that when the McGinleys
first came to Knockdara,

they did have a daughter, but
she died a few months after.

And then it dawned on me, no
one ever spoke to Bridget.

Not my mother, not her father, no one.

Only me.

- It's a good story, Dad.

- Aye, Michael's too clever
to believe any of it.

An explanation for everything, my son has.

But I knew Bridget. She was my friend.

You should ask your woman.

- Who?
- Your one,

your one from the village.

What's her name? She was here.

- Cloda.
- Cloda?

- Aye, that's her.

- Sheila's friend?
- I do not believe this.

- What?

- You're in this house five minutes

and you have that woman here,
spreading her wickedness?

- I was scared. I've seen things.

I've heard things.
- Superstitious nonsense.

- Oh, my god.

Are you mad?

What's this?
- It's the holy water.

- And what's it for?

- Stop waving that about.
It's to bless the house.

- So that's okay, is it?

To believe that, but nothing else?

No, on everything else,
you're entirely rational.

You tell me there are no
ghosts, that it's in my head,

but you think sprinkling that water around

is gonna protect you from the devil?

- It's a good point.
- That's different.

- Come on, Mary, you're gonna
have to do better than that.

- Well, you would take her side.

- I'm not taking her side.

In any case, I think you're all wrong.

There's not the slightest
reason to believe any of this.

There are no ghosts.

Dad made up a nice story
about his wee friend,

and that's just tap water,

no matter how much you paid
Father William to bless it.

- You watch your mouth, Son.

You'll not be forgiven.

Not for all the water in the Irish Sea.

- What are you talking about?
- I'm talking about Roisin.

Ask him, Bridget, ask him to tell you.

- Hugh, it's all right.
- Dad, please.

- Roisin did it to herself, Michael.

- No, Dad.

- She did it to herself because of you,

because of all your aul
carry on behind her back.

That girl loved you.

- That's not true, Hugh.

It was an accident.

- God forgive you, Son.

May God forgive you!

- Dad, this is serious now.

You're gonna make yourself ill again.

- Don't you tell me what to do.

I'm your father.

- Come on.

Please.

- You haven't touched your food, dear.

- I brought you some tea.

- I don't want it.

- What?
- It's disgusting.

I'm sick of the stuff. What even is it?

- It's good for you.
- You drink it then.

- So you had Cloda here?
- Yes.

- And why would you do that?

- I don't know, I thought it might help.

- She's a charlatan.

- Has anyone else died here?
- What?

- In this house,
before the fire, I mean.

- Of course. It's an old house.

My grandparents lived here.

My great grandparents lived here.

- She talked about a girl.

Was that Bridget?

- Come on, Ophelia, this
isn't gonna help you.

That girl, Cloda, what happened to her,

what happened to her son, it's awful.

And since then, she's
been scrabbling around,

trying to make sense of it,
but it's not your concern.

And you shouldn't be encouraging her.

Go to sleep now.

Mm, delicious.

- Are you getting in?

- Aye, I'll be up in a bit.

- Michael?
- Yeah.

- That story your dad told, is it true?

- What do you think?

Get some sleep.

Morning, Da.

I brought you your coffee.

You have been dreaming
about your darling, Bridget,

no doubt.

I swear that story gets better
and better every time you...

Dad?

Dad.

Mary.

Mary!

- Michael? What is it?

- He's not breathing.

- Hugh?
- He's not breathing.

- Help me turn him.

Help me get him on his back.

Hugh, it's Mary.

You listen to me now,
you wake up, you hear me?

- Dad.
- Hugh.

- The last
words he said to me, Mary-

- None of that matters now.

He loved you more than
anything else in the world.

Difficult aul bastard that he was.

Ach, Sean, what about
you? Thanks for coming.

- I'm sorry I didn't come sooner.

I was up in Fahan on a job.

- Come through, now.

- Michael, I'm so sorry.

And after Roisin.

- "When sorrows come, they
come not single spies,

but in battalions."

- We'll build this house back up, Michael.

I give you my word. It's
the least we can do.

- Listen up now, everybody,

the undertakers will be here soon.

Let's give Michael a wee moment.

- Where's Ophelia?

- Upstairs.

- Ophelia.

How's it going?

Why are you hiding away up here?

- I can't do it.

- You should go down.

You should say goodbye to him.

It's okay.

- He looks like he's sleeping,

like if I touched him, he might wake up.

- Well, you can touch him.

- Sean, can you, ah, you came down.

Good for you.

How are you feeling?
- Much better, thank you.

Sean persuaded me.
- Good man yourself, Sean.

Will you give us a hand
in here for a minute?

- Mm-hmm.

You all right?
- Yeah, I'm fine here.

- Okay.

- Hey, there you are.

- What's happening?
- It's okay.

You just had a fright, that's all.

This is Dr. Lenihan from the
medical center in Letterkenny.

He was here to see my dad.

- How are you feeling now?

- Okay.

- Thanks very much, James.

I'll see you back downstairs.

He said to take these to help you sleep.

- What are they?

- It's all right, I
told him about the baby.

We're away now to the church.

You should get some rest.
- I should come.

- No, you should stay here.

- Michael.
- Yeah.

- Say goodbye to your
dad, will you? For me.

- I will.

- Letterkenny Medical Practice.

- Yes, I'm trying to get
in touch with Dr. Lenihan.

He prescribed me some medication which-

- Dr. Lenihan?

- Yeah.

- We've no
doctor by that name here.

- Are you sure?

- Quite sure.

Could it have been anyone else?

- No, thank you.

Thank you for your help.

Can I help you?

- Is Michael in?

- He's at his father's funeral.

Is there anything I can help with?

- I'm looking for someone.

Annabelle Lorimer, she's missing.

Do you know her?

- No.

- This is the week before she disappeared.

There's an address.

- What is this?
- Her diary.

That's Michael's address in Cambridge.

- That's Hardy.
- What?

- This quotation, it's Thomas Hardy.

- Yeah, she's a writer.

It's full of stuff like that.

- I'm sorry I can't be more help.

- She's my sister.

- I really don't know anything.

- Do you live here?

- I'm sorry.

- Hey, thanks for doing that, James.

She was in such a state, I just...

I don't know, I just needed
to calm her down, you know.

- It was no bother, Michael.

- Thank you.

- Dr. Callaghan?

- Yes?

- I'm sorry for your loss.

- Thank you. Do I know you?
- No.

Could I have a word?

- Sure.

Yeah, she was one of
my stand-ins last year.

- Stand-ins, what's that?

- She wasn't one of my regular
students is what I mean.

A lot of my work is
covering for supervisors

that are away or ill, you understand?

- Why is your address in her diary?

- My wife was a novelist, a
much better novelist than me.

Annabelle asked me about
getting into writing,

so I put them in touch.

- When did they last meet?

- They didn't, actually.

There was a session booked
but she didn't show up.

Look, I'm sorry to say this,

but is there not an obvious
explanation to all this?

- And what's that?

- Well, Annabelle's a young girl,

just finished university,
hanging around Cambridge.

Do you not think maybe that
she just went away somewhere?

- What does that mean?

- I don't know.

Maybe somewhere where her
brother couldn't follow her?

With a boyfriend, a
girlfriend, you tell me.

- And you'd know all about
that sort of thing, would you?

- I'm sorry?

- I spoke to your girlfriend at the house.

- Who?

- I didn't catch her name,
but she was very helpful.

- Well, I'm afraid Hardy
isn't really my area,

but we'll manage.

- Annabelle's the most
organized person you could meet.

But you think what?

She just took off somewhere
with one tiny rucksack?

- Rucksack?

- Only thing
missing from her room.

- Look, I'm sorry that you
had to come all this way.

I'm sorry I couldn't be more helpful,

but I really need to go.

It's my father's funeral,
do you understand?

She'll turn up, though, your sister.

I'm sure of it.

- Oh, my god.

- Shit.

Subtitles Diego Moraes(oakislandtk)
www.opensubtitles.org